The Night My Life Changed
by Rumbling Night Cutter
Summary: Toothless POV during the raid and downed dragon. The Night Fury feels like he's the undead, until one night his life changes forevermore. One shot.


**Third Toothless POV one shot. This is one I notice a distinct lack of... Toothless's POV during the raid he lost his tail fin in. **

I flew through the battle, flapping my wings viciously as I tore through the air in the sky. The little Vikings below clashed and fought with the common breeds, the nightmares, the nadders, the gronkles, the zipplebacks, I was even pretty sure I saw a terrible terror swarm chasing a couple of the silly humans around.

I dove in to demolish another catapult, the thing exploding in the creepy purple-blue light of my plasma blasts, but as I shot past the burning wreckage I felt... Nothing.

I hadn't felt anything in years and years and years. That's what it was like under the Demon Queen's control. No emotional pain, no grief, no sorrow, no loneliness. No happiness, no rage, no drive in your heart. Nothing, just an empty, dead weight in your chest, and orders in your head.

Thats how I felt as I dive bombed the Viking Armaments. My heart was a cold stone in my ribs, a heavy wight where passion and drive should reside. Nope, there was just that and the acidic feeling in my stomach.

Nothing meant anything. Not since I finally succumbed to the Queen's control when she gobbled uo my ever defiant family, leaving me, the most obident one, alive to serve, and alone in the world.

As you can immagine, I had been happy to sink into the emotionless abyss of her control, but now, after so long like this, I didn't even feel alive anymore. I was a dragur dragon. A dragur was the Viking's name for an undead being. I felt dead, but I was still aware, still moving, still flying, still functioning. So, in essence, an undead dragon.

That's what I felt like. A dragur. And that's what I had been calling myself for years.

I swung around, the black night sky hiding me, as my scales matched its inky texture. I dove back in for another round on the catapult, folding my wings, my attack shriek whistling through the air as I jackknifed across the sky, and delivered yet another blast to the stupid thing.

I watched the Vikings scatter below me. They were like ants, skittering about after their nest was stomped on. I grumbled at the irony.

I passed over the glowing building where they made their metal slaying tools, and I saw a face, a young boy, peeking out at the battle in amazement. I decided to settle down on a nearby roof and peer at him.

The others of his particular age group were struggling to clean up Nightmare's handy work with a few pales of water. The alpha female of the group, or that's what she seemed to be, given her authoritative tone and confident stride among her fellows, tossed a bucket of water down on the burning woos and turned away, just as an incoming dragon came in and erased her work with a single fireball.

Her friends followed her away from the inferno. Huh, I guess they did look kind of elegant by human standards. I myself much prefer the Nadder's elegant build to the's humans and their... Verticalness. They were so awkward looking.

I turned back to the boy in the metal making place, and noted with interest his besotted expression. That, and the hormones I was detecting from him, clearly suggested he wanted to mate with the alpha female.

For the first time in a long time, I felt a spark of emotion in my heart. Amusement. Good luck with that kid, I thought. By the looks of you, she'd sooner spit in your face than allow you to put a child in her.

Then again, she did glance back at him as the bigger, marred man behind the boy pulled him back inside. By the looks of her face, she was curious. Intrigued by the undersized viking as much as I was.

I shook my head, and the feeling disappeared, the stony feeling returning. I opened my wings and took off in flight. There was no more active artillery, but there was a catapult on the edge of the village, standing severely neglected, that I could use to occupy my time.

I circled the thing a few times, trying to determine weak points. When I found them I suddenly noticed the strange, undersized bout standing on a hill not far away, some ridiculous, useless looking structure before him.

I dismissed the thing, and flew around, banking across the sky. The boy swirled his thingy about, as if looking for something.

Wonder what it was he was after?

I began to dive, folding my wings in and going for the weapon with intent to obliterate. As soon as the thing got within range-BANG! The viking weapon was no more. I began to prepare to return to the nest, maybe pick up some form of large marine life to placate her Highness.

Then suddenly my world was changed in a single instant. Something heavy and strong began to wrap around me, making the strangest noises as it did. The Queen's control was broken, then, by sheer survival instinct.

Terror filled my heart, alighting it like a torch after all the time it's spent cold as a rock in the North.

Oh no. Oh gods no, I thought as I began to fall. I screamed as the top or my lungs as I hurdled over the sea, carried by my velocity, then towards the large rows of evergreens near the far side of the islands, their pointed tops like spear tips as I crashed down, awaiting my fate.

As I met the greenery, pain tripped through me. A large tree bent under the force of my unwilling landing and snapped like an over large twig. One of the branches of the mighty pine snagged my left tail fin, and agony coursed through it. I roared loudly again, even though no one wold likely hear it this time. The force of my speed carried me further though, digging a trench through the earth.

I fell over a rise and into a clearing, rolling as I did. I ended up on my rings side, left wing half raised. That was as much as I could manage. I was wrapped up too tightly to do anything else.

And I was tired. So, so tired. The sensation of _feeling _again , after so long with nothing. It drained me utterly, and I moaned once, resting my head on the lightly grassed ground, now dotted with my scales. With that, I fell into a void of darkness.

* * *

When I woke up, I heard a voice.

"...oh, oh this fixes _everything_," a nasally voice, belonging to a human, sounded. I was to groggy to register, though.

Go away, human, I thought. No one wants you around. Or I don't. I don't care anymore. I'm out if the Queen's control, and once I get out of these ropes, I'm high tailing it to the north. I hear there's a Bewilderbeast up there who doesn't drive his dragons like slaves, strip them bare and take away their sentience.

But apparently the human didn't want to listen. "_Yes_," he cried out, elated, and I felt a foot press down into my neck. Ok, ok that was just rude, don't brag about a fallen warrior. It's not a glorious thing, killing.

"I have brought down this mighty beast!"

Oh.

Oh.

Oh no he didn't. Not today, sucker!

I roared, maki it sound as much like the human 'no' as I could, and pushed him away with my leg. My eyes shot open, and I looked at him.

_You_! The stupid, half grown, worm-eating Terror Dung Pit! It was the little human I had seen in the metal place, the one who wished to mate with the female. He held a pathetic little dagger in his hands and huffed in fear as he looked into my eyes.

Contempt filled me. This was the human... The human who had broken the Queen's control over me, I realized. I was free. The fact hadn't fully sunk in yet, but it did at that moment. Her influence was gone, I wasn't a dragur anymore! For the first time since I was very young, I felt truly, utterly alive!

And afraid.

Oh gods. Oh gods no. I just got my free will back, and now this... Viking, I guess, was going to end my life, just when I decided I actually want to live! No, no, no, no, no.

I moaned loudly, and it was quickly followed by a whimper.

Not like this! Not like this!

On a side note, if I didn't want it to end like this, how did I actually want it to end? Probably of old age, and on a beach somewhere. Preferably at sunrise, so it would be ironic. I like ironies, they're funny.

I looked at the little viking with terror as he approached. He held the weapon up. The shiny iron was short, but sharp enough to cut my scales and end my miserable, pointless, just-about-to-begin life.

"I'm gonna, I'm gonna kill you dragon," he said with very false bravado. He was as scared as I was. Good, at least I wasn't alone in this. At least I had the pleasure of knowing my murderer felt the exact same thing as I did as the life bled out of my body. "I'm gonna carve out your heart and take it to my father," he continued, clenching his eyes shut.

Lon, no you don't. Look me in the eye, Viking, if that's what you truly are!

"I'm a viking," he whispered, opening the emerald orbs back up to meet my terrorified, yet angry gaze. I wasn't going to struggle, or fight it needlessly. I was going to take my dignity with me, no matter how very, very scared I was. He wouldn't take this from me!

"I'm a VIKING," he shouted this time, the yell echoing through the trees, scattering the avian life around. But he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself more than me. His heart wasn't in this, it truly wasn't.

But he was going to do it. He tried to look away a few times, and I tried to plead with my eyes to get him to stop. He didn't have to do this. He cuts me loose, he'll never see me again. He goes back to his village, finds a way to win over the alpha female, and happy endings all around, except for the grunts.

Finally, I gave up on the attempt. With a final groan of defeat, I closed my eyes and let my head fall to the ground with a slight thump. I could hear him fighting himself, until-

"I did this," he whispered.

Yes, you did. You may as well finish it boy.

Suddenly I hear something.

_Cut-cut-cut-SNAP! Cut-cut-cut-SNAP!_

My eyes burst open, and I looked at the undersized human. He was cutting my bonds, he was letting me go! My heart soared for a moment, before it was flooded with anger. I was a dragon, a superior being! How dare he bring me to grovel for my life at his feet. It would be his turn soon! He looked behind him briefly, as if to check for witnesses, before his knife went to the last rope.

_Cut-cut-cut-SNAP!_

The last rope fell, and I pounced to my paws, leaving the bindings behind. My left paw went to his throat, and slammed the smaller life form down against a rock. A dull rumble filled my throat, and I snarled at him. The little not-a-viking struggled for a moment before he did something I did not expect.

He looked me in the eye.

I shook it off, and reared backwards, opening my mouth with teeth unsheathed. He flinched away, and I spread my wings a little, adding to the fear factor, before I did it.

"ROOOOAAARREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE," I screamed I. His face, blasting his skin with so much hit air it almost turned red. When I finished, I sheathed my teeth, smacked my gums a few times, and considered his cringing form.

Go. Find your mate. Live your life. Fight the other dragons. I'm going north!

I turned and leapt through the trees spreading out my mighty wings in preparation to take to the skies, when I notice something very, very wrong with my tail. It feels much lighter than it should, and I couldn't feel the left fin.

I plummeted downwards. I tired to keep myself aloft, but only made myself slam into a rock face beside me loudly. It hurt, but I was to disoriented to care. I roared in pain and fear, and plummeted downwards again, tipping over the rim of a glorious cove before falling into it. I clawed at the walls as I fell, trying to save myself.

It was an impossible task. I hit the ground hard, and lost my bearings for a moment. All I knew was that I was trapped. And I couldn't fly. And that a downed dragon, was a dead dragon. And there were Vikings nearby. A armed viking, is a killing viking.

CRAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPP!


End file.
